goneawayworld | Corona [OPEN]

Entry tags:

Corona [OPEN]

Who: The New Hires and Planker
What: Fun
Where: The Gym
When: Post-plot.
Warnings/Notes: Foul language from Planker.

The first warning the New Hires have is that some of them quietly get pulled aside by various members of the staff before training even starts. Not only does this mean that some of the personnel had to wake up extra early, already a warning sign, but they don't mention why. They just take a few key people aside.

The second warning is when Planker walks in, whistling a cheerful tune and wearing a smile like a man with a three foot erection. "All right, you miserable fucking reprobates! Big Daddy Planker has heard your complaints about his training methods. Pity the Princess got transferred out, she could feel the love today." He paces in front of the assembled crew, doing his best to show off every little tooth. "And, believe you me, that's the only love that exists for you little shits! God doesn't love you, He's dead! I killed Him! He came upon me in His divine glory while I was showering and didn't duck fast enough when I turned around to face Him! And if you anorchous shit-stuffers don't want to be buried in the same fucking hole, you'll straighten those fucking backs and pay attention!"

He snaps his fingers, directing everyone's attentions to a series of chambers. Clear material forms the walls and the rest promises an obstacle course. "This is your obstacle course! And you are mine! I have permission to keep you here until I get bored! And if that means you blowzy copremetics will all get through this course." He slams his hand against one of the walls, then jabs a finger at the first person to catch his attention. "That means you, filth! Mount that wall, put some effort into it, and go! You! Join them!"

The course is an exercise in sadism, as only Planker could imagine. There are seven chambers.

The first room seems simple enough, you simply have to run across. But the floor moves, like treadmills, and each segment is in an opposite direction. When the participant hits the floor an ear-piercing siren starts blaring, increasing in volume with every fall and not ceasing until the course is completed.
The second room is a mud crawl under rows of concertina wire that snags and catches at the clothing, with stinging insects there to hurry people along. If the poor unfortunate is too slow, tear gas starts to fill the room.
The third room has a set of irregular monkey bars, but they've been greased. It's set above a three foot pit filled with mouse traps straining to go off.
The fourth room has, dangling from strings, chattering stun guns at various heights. There are sparking hurdles, as well, wrapped in barbed wire to snag at any clothing and drag people in to the electrified bars. Three double-sided cattle prods rotate like ceiling fans, threatening anyone who gets too close. To add to the stupidity, the floor is covered in tires.
The fifth room brings them to a ball pit! But some of the balls are electroshock grenades. Some are glue bombs. And some of them are flashbangs. Both are set to go off on contact.
The penultimate room has air rams that go off as the participant drags a dummy (or their partner. Or the previous, possibly unconscious, runner.) through, blasting powerfully enough to knock a man off of his feet. To make things worse, giant strips of fly paper stretch across the room, snaring anyone unfortunate enough to get caught.
The seventh, and final, room has something different. Carrying a tool box, the participant has to dash up a spiraling ramp that has alternating barrels and greased ball bearings dropping down at regular intervals. At the end, they have to solve a puzzle and disarm a bomb. If they fail to do it in time, the 'bomb' goes off. Unfortunately for them, Planker isn't allowed to use a real bomb. Instead, the box underneath the bomb springs open, revealing an enraged skunk.

After about the third person starts to go through, Planker will press a button. At that point, the chambers will rise up, revealing wheels, and start to move about the gym in swift circles, controlled via his remote, designed to throw the people inside off-balance and remove any illusion of stable footing. To add salt to the wound, there are cameras in every chamber, capturing every possible humiliation for editing and presenting to whoever Planker sees fit later on.

[[Obviously you don't have to participate. Your character was taken aside for some reason. Otherwise, you can either have your characters run through, react to, or simply have them talk about being forced to undergo this new, improved obstacle course later.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There were a lot of things in Remy's repertoire that counted as 'that good.' Picking locks was one of the more useful ones for his work and had come in handy on a number of occasions for some not always popular heroes as well.

It was funny how of the two of them Rogue had always been the one more worried about hurting the him than he was about being hurt. She'd lost count of the number of times he'd told her how the risk was worth the reward. She'd both hoped her would and prayed he wouldn't one day find someone he cared about more and finally leave.

She wanted so badly for him to be able to be happy, and sometimes she felt like she was standing in the way of that, and then other moments, like being on his arm, she felt there was nowhere in the world, any world she'd rather be. And no one else she'd rather be with.

"Guessin' it ain't too bad then, ya look like ya got all yer parts intact." There was more than he had told her, she knew just by what he didn't say.

"We been through worse'n this before. Ah ain' about ta let some slow train or some loudmouth jackalope with a ball pit wear me down. So ah'll have yer back Cajun, and you have mine. Deal?"

In a way, she was standing in the way of his happiness. But more because she stood in the way of her own happiness at the same time. He would tell himself sometimes that he could be happy with whatever decision she made, as long as SHE was happy.

It might have been a lie, but he'd always been good at that, too.

"Got a bit close a couple times, but oui. Still in one piece."

And if he reached up and ran a hand over the back of his head? Well, that didn't mean anything, right?

Right.

Still, he absolutely beamed at her, patting the hand on his arm carefully. "Always, Rogue. Let's get movin', though. See if we can't get you some new gloves." And some for himself. Since he had a reason to need them, now.

"Well if you an me are here no telling how soon someone else'll show up, not like anybody ever left us alone for long." It was half a joke, but there was also truth to it.

It meant they had each other's backs now and that meant some security and a way to relax and know someone else was looking out for them. And his new friend too, she'd have to meet her and make sure that the girl was alright.

"Good idea. Hopefully they have something that'll be more suitable than these overalls too, or at least a bit stronger. If we're like ta face stuff like that the last thing I need is ta be back in mah savage land duds." She wouldn't put others at risk if she could help it, and he was first and foremost on that list.

"With our luck, it'll be Bobby. Come to glare at me a few more times." Not that he didn't like the icicle, but Bobby had a bad habit of getting in the middle when he didn't need to be.

"De overalls, though? T'inkin' dat dey don'. 'Cause we all got 'em. An' everybody's is jus' as badly fittin'." His were somehow long in the arm and short in the leg at the same time. He still wasn't sure how they managed that one, but they'd done it. "I know dey got our stuff here. We jus' ain't 'llowed to have it."

"Yeah, it would be our luck." She chuckled but they could do worse. She and Bobby had been friends longer than pretty much anyone else she was close to. He'd accepted her early on even if it had been based on a crush on his part at first. They'd grown past that part and still cared about each other like adopted family.

"Ah don' know how well these'r gonna work or for how long if ah have ta do much fightin'." But she supposed they would take precautions if it became a problem. Her own set didn't flatter much, a little tight through the seat but the high waist ruined any shape that might add. She wasn't exactly vain, but she did have her pride. "Maybe we will be if things go well, have ya heard anything about that?"

"I t'ink we get back de uniforms if dey're sendin' us off de Rig." That had been his understanding, at least. "Dey do an' I'm hidin' all sortsa t'ings from my coat."

Because he managed to snag a deck of cards and they're not even the most useful thing he normal carries. Right now, that would probably be his lockpicks. "More dan dat? Non. Ain't heard much."

"You an that coat." Rogue shook her head with a little chuckle. That trench was as much as part of his as his accent. She'd been amazed more than once by the things he'd managed to smuggle in that coat.

"Ah wouldn' mind gettin a suit back, somethin' a bit more familiar. Not sure what all they might give me anyway, not like ah had much." Everything she'd ever had was tied up with the X-men, but hell the school and mansion had been destroyed and rebuilt enough times that aside from a few small items she didn't have anything really.

The fact that it had been replaced a few times didn't mean he couldn't smuggle plenty in it. He does, after all, have a tailor. And plenty of pockets is always something a thief needs.

He grins at her unabashedly. "Me an' dat coat go back a long way, chère." As she well knew, if she ever went looking for the memories. He has a feeling that she doesn't, though. Takes all the fun out of things.

"I got here wit' de clothes on my back an' whatever's in de coat." Even he's not too sure at the moment. Cards, obviously. Some candy. Hairbands because his hair was a little long again. Gloves. His staff.

Stuff.

"Managed to rescue one deck of cards 'fore dey took de coat, though. Would feel too naked wit'out it."

She'd never had much in the way of pockets, but given her job normally kept her front and center with whatever thing they were fighting with, pockets weren't much use. He had a reasonable use for storage, and she had to admit the coat suited his aesthetic.

She tried not to dip into that well if she didn't have to, and the cases where she'd had to use any of the reservoirs of thoughts and feelings she had were rare. Looking in always came with the danger of not liking what might look back.

"Not saying that's not a pretty picture ta think of, ah'd still rather have ya safe." Rogue made no secret of her attraction to him, and if she tried it'd be a bad lie. So she just admitted it, seemed easier and maybe that sort of comment now and again made him realize her cap was still set on him.

He grinned at her. "Ain't like you got much to imagine." Since Valle Soleada wasn't THAT long ago. And while Remy might not have been best pleased at the time about the fact that he was without his powers, they had very definitely taken advantage of the fact that Rogue hadn't had hers.

"Still been a few nights 'tween then an now. A gals gotta keep herself warm somehow." And that was dangerously flirtatious, even outright bold, but look who she was talking to.

"An ah stand by it, damn fine sight ta imagine." She grinned like the cat that ate the canary.

"You say de word, mon couer, an' I'll do what I can to help keep you warm." Which could mean a lot of different things. After all, they'd done a lot in their relationship to keep things on an even keel. And even if Remy couldn't touch her body, he did his best to touch her in other ways.

Such as the flirtation. Which got a grin out of him. "An' dat's anot'er t'ing you jus' gotta say if you wanna see an' we'll do what we can."

He was, Rogue granted, the most creative and determined romance she'd had since her powers manifested. Remy had always been one willing to take chances even when it wasn't safe, but more so to introduce things that allowed them som measure of enjoyment of each other. When he mentioned that she went pink in the cheeks not so much from shyness as in memory. "Ah think we both ought to get settled in here first, an then we can look inta what might make it more enjoyable."

Oh and her eyes did wander when he spoke the last, teeth worried a bit at her lower lip as if thinking about something before speaking. "Ah really hope they have better gloves."

"Yeah, of course. Jus' lettin' you know dat door is open." He grins at her, nudging her shoulder with his. "Come on, den. We go get some gloves an' maybe sit down, start figurin' dis place out. I got a map."

He made a map. A couple of them, even. Because of course he did.

"That's kinda that problem swamp rat, all the doors are open." She snickered, all the doors to quarters she'd seen so far had been open, apparently, privacy had to be earned here, like everything else. She rocked with the shoulder shove and nodded. "Jus' like you ta already get the lay of the land. So where we headed?"

"Believe me, definitely noticed dat." The lack of privacy was something he hadn't had to deal with for years, not since Jean-Luc had taken him in. Not in the same way, at least. "Requisitions. Pro'ly have to fill in some paperwork. 'Cause bureaucracy."

Even the mansion and school had more privacy than this, Rogue was not fond of it herself. More so she wasn't fond of the idea of one less layer of security between her and others. It meant she'd have to either sleep fully clothed or keeping everything right near her close enough to grab in a rush. Neither of those seemed appealing or particularly prone to helping her be able to sleep at all. For a person who lived covered up for safety even the touch of air on bare skin was a relief, but in this case, it was also a danger. "Well lead on an we'll see what all we can git 'tween my charm an your's."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Corona [OPEN]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject